


my body's made of shell

by Lise



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Broken Bones, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Hurt Loki (Marvel), Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Loki (Marvel) Lives, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Originally Posted on Tumblr, POV Loki (Marvel), Panic Attacks, Strangulation, it's not happy but it's not like. sad either?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-04 04:35:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16339934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/pseuds/Lise
Summary: Loki didn’t know how he had survived.In point of fact, he wasn’t entirely certain that he had.





	my body's made of shell

**Author's Note:**

> Diverges, obviously, at That One Point in canon (i.e. very early on) and really just...excuse for Loki whump and Loki lives fic and it's all very self-indulgent but I'm learning to embrace that, more or less. So! 
> 
> This was originally posted on my Tumblr for someone who asked for a fic where Loki survived Thanos but was still severely injured and also traumatized, making fixing said injury hard, obviously - I went from there. So consequent warnings for a lot of discussion of broken necks. One specifically. 
> 
> If you missed this one on my Tumblr - you might think about [following me there](http://veliseraptor.tumblr.com), for more hot fresh content that only gets posted over here about four months later when I remember to do it.

Loki didn’t know how he had survived.

In point of fact, he wasn’t entirely certain that he had. Awareness faded in and out. It was cold, freezing cold, or maybe he was, or maybe none of this was real and this was death, or he was still dying. 

At some point he tried to move, but it hurt too much and he thought he must have fainted. Turning his head - or trying - resulted in a horrible grinding sensation; he vomited and passed out again. When he woke up, something was whistling like a kettle and it took him a while to realize that it was his breathing. 

Thanos had crushed his throat and broken his neck. He should be dead. But his body clung to life, refusing to let go.

It took him a long time to grasp hold of his magic, but he managed eventually, and pieced together a spell in fits and starts of consciousness. 

Loki slipped between spaces and fell.

He didn’t feel himself hit the ground.

* * *

There was light. And sound. Voices. 

_Voices._ Loki’s eyes snapped open and he tried to twist his head to look about. The sound that exploded out of his throat was too thin to be called a scream, but it made its best effort. His heart raced and he fought for air that wouldn’t come, or wouldn’t come enough.

His vision swam but he could still see someone bending over him, looking down at him. Loki’s fingers twitched, though something about the sensation didn’t feel right. He recognized the smell, the feel of the air. Midgard. He was on Midgard.

“Where did you come from?” she asked.

_Asgard,_ he meant to say, or _Thor,_ but all that came out was a faint wheeze, and even that much _hurt_. She frowned. 

“I didn’t expect an answer,” she said. “Your throat is damaged.”

_I know,_ Loki thought dizzily, _I can feel it,_ but he didn’t try to speak again.

He did try to push himself up. His left arm was numb and unresponsive, and he didn’t get far; the woman crouching next to him (crouching? Yes, he was lying on his back on something, grass, he thought he could feel grass) stopped him. 

“Don’t move,” she said. “Dinobi, I think his neck…”

“Let me see,” said another voice, and another woman crouched next to him, a spear in one hand, and reached out to touch--

He lashed out, unthinking, _no no no,_ instinctive panic screaming at him. He had too little magic to do much, and his left arm still refused to move, but it was enough to knock them both back away from him. His vision flickered in and out and he tried again to push himself up, but something _shifted_ nauseatingly in his neck and the world went white and then red.

When his sight cleared again, there was a spear pointed at his face and someone was talking rapidly, though he couldn’t make sense of the words. 

He wasn’t healing, Loki thought. He should be healing. Or maybe Thanos had broken that, too. Stolen his strength, like Odin had Thor’s-

Where was Thor? He wanted Thor to be here, if Thor were here it would be safe, he couldn’t trust these people. They were going to finish what Thanos had started and he wouldn’t be able to stop it, not like this. He sucked in shaky breaths through his nose that did not fill his lungs. 

“They’re on their way,” someone said.

_Who,_ Loki thought, fear humming through him. _Who is, who are you, what are you going to do to me,_ but he couldn’t speak, couldn’t ask. Couldn’t say _get away from me._

All he could do was wait, and dread, and try to breathe, his body beating to the pulse of unbearable, inexorable, pain.

* * *

‘They’ were reinforcements. More warrior women; he could just see them out of the corner of his eye. They’d brought with them a young woman - a girl, really - dressed not in their reds but in black. 

“Your Majesty,” one of the warriors was saying. “You need to be careful-”

“I know that, Okoye,” she said. “But injured strangers appearing out of nowhere within our borders seems like the sort of thing I should deal with.” 

Loki watched her approach and tried not to let his breath quicken. He didn’t dare try to move. The feeling of numbness had spread from his left arm; his feet and legs were bleeding feeling as well. He knew why: pressure on nerves, on the cord that connected brain to body. It was getting worse, instead of better. Perhaps his body was solely occupied with keeping him alive, with nothing left to mend the root of the problem. 

It didn’t really matter. One quick wrench and it would be over. Even this girl could probably do it. 

What little air could pass through his throat vanished. 

“You brought the brace, right?” She said. “I can’t fix anything right here. I think...I have a feeling I know who he is.” She looked - very sad, Loki thought. For someone so young. 

Then he saw someone approaching with some kind of - contraption, and someone else held his head between her hands. Two others pinned his arms and Loki tried to scream at them, tried to fight, tore his right arm free and twisted to free his head--

He felt a _pop-crack_ and his mind imploded, a shock of pain searing through his body followed by his left side going dead. 

Something clasped around his neck. Thanos’s fingers dug in.

The terror followed him shrieking down into unconsciousness.

* * *

Once more, he woke to the sound of voices. 

He registered the pressure on his throat second and slammed awake, reaching up and clawing at his neck though only his right arm would move. His fingers slipped off something smooth and strange and he clawed for the scraps of magic he could summon.

It disintegrated. Immediately, everything above his shoulders exploded with pain. Someone shouted something he couldn’t understand; hands grabbed his wrists and held them fast.

“Hold still, Loki,” said Thor’s voice, sounding very far away. “You need to...it’s meant to help.”

He went still, so surprised that he didn’t fight when the collar ( _hand, not hand_ ) closed again around his neck. His vision went spotty and Thor’s hands squeezed. 

“It’s all right,” he said. “Stay calm.” His voice trembled slightly. 

_You’re alive,_ Loki tried to say, but all that came out was a thin rasp. The pain eased slowly, a little at a time, but he could still feel spikes of it stabbing up his neck into his brain, a beat of _wrong, wrong, wrong._

“If I let go,” Thor said, “you have to leave the brace alone.” Loki could see him now, his face - _two eyes, when did you get another eye, I remember._ Thor turned his head and asked, “is it working?” 

“It _would_ be, if he’d stop making me start over.”

_It’s meant to help._ The - _brace,_ Loki thought. Meant to help his, his--

_Bone grinding against bone, awareness fading in and out. Clawing at Thanos’s arm. Listening to Thor scream._

“Loki,” Thor said. “It’s - it’s all right. I’m here.”

A small, childish part of Loki insisted that Thor would never let him come to harm. The rest of him thought, ruthlessly, _his being there didn’t stop the Kursed. Didn’t stop Thanos. Both times, in fact, you died for him._

“All I’ve really done is stabilize him,” said the other voice - the young woman from before. “I can do a lot of things but I don’t know how to fix a broken neck. You’ll need a real doctor for that one.” 

_A broken neck._ It wasn’t anything Loki hadn’t known, but it still made his stomach twist to hear it from someone else. Made him think about why and if he wasn’t careful…

Some feeling had returned to his left side, at least. He could twitch his fingers. Maybe that wasn’t beyond repair.

“Go on,” he heard Thor say quietly. “I’ll stay.”

He released Loki’s wrists slowly, like he expected him to start clawing at the brace immediately. He wanted to. Wanted to rip it away, too aware of the pressure of it even if he could feel the ache in his throat easing. Air seemed to come a little easier. 

“Thor,” he rasped. The first word he managed to speak, though it was only barely intelligible. “You’re - alive.” Thor drew a shuddering breath that sounded like half a sob and he pressed a hand against Loki’s chest.

“So are you,” he said. His blue eye shone with unshed tears. The other was brown. Loki frowned.

“Got - a new - eye.”

“A gift,” Thor said, his expression flickering. “From a new friend. But - don’t try to speak. You’re still - you’re not…”

_Not well. Not whole._ He was not either. In any sense. 

“Your...your bones need to be - realigned,” Thor said. “But every time we’ve tried…”

Loki had a flash of memory. Something shifting in his neck and lashing out in blind panic. It was dim, and confused, and he wouldn’t have believed it was real if Thor hadn’t said. His throat started to close and he swallowed hard; the motion hurt. “I - can’t…” _Control it. Take anyone touching me. Trust anyone here. How do I even know any of this is real--_

Thor reached out toward him and then pulled back when Loki flinched. That gesture, Loki thought bitterly, that affectionate touch. Ruined. 

His eyes and nose burned with tears that spilled over. Weeping hurt, too.

“We’ll fix this,” Thor said. Loki could hear the desperation in his voice, the need to believe, to salvage something from this wreckage. “We’ll heal you. And I am - I am not going anywhere.” 

_What happened,_ Loki knew he needed to ask, but not yet. Not yet.

* * *

He slept, maybe. Drifted. The swelling in his throat went down, at least, and the feeling was returning slowly, agonizingly, to his limbs.

He woke to stabbing pain shooting up through his calves and started to try to move only to stop himself in time. 

“Hey,” said a vaguely familiar voice. “How’s…”

“Better,” Thor said. “No longer in immediate peril, though we still need to find a way to…someone willing to try again. The doctors are very busy, and given the last incident…” A heavy sigh. “I don’t know the sedatives here. Nor if it would be safe to use them.”

“Shouldn’t he be healing on his own?” 

“Normally, yes,” Thor said. “And he _is,_ just...the - damage is severe enough that I suspect it is taking almost everything he has to stay alive.” 

“If you need a break,” said the other voice after a brief pause, “I can stay for a bit.” 

“Thank you, Steve,” Thor said. “But...I think I would rather remain here.”

They spoke a little longer, though quieter, and Loki could not quite make out the words. The skin of his neck itched under the collar he wore that still felt too close, too tight.

“Are you awake?” Thor asked. Loki opened his eyes to slits. Thor’s face was drawn, exhausted.

“Yes,” Loki said. His voice still sounded hoarse. He wondered if the damage was permanent; if he would ever sound like himself again or if Thanos’s fist had stolen that as well. Thinking of Thanos made the brace seem to tighten and he focused on the air in his lungs moving in and out. 

“How…” Thor made a noise and cut himself off. “Can I help?”

“Thirsty,” Loki said. Thor almost hopped in a way that would have been entertaining in any other circumstances. Loki couldn’t find any humor in the current situation. He brought back a cup of water with a straw in it and Loki took a sip only to choke as water trickled into his windpipe. He coughed, and then couldn’t stop, and couldn’t breathe.

Thor nearly tossed the cup aside and pushed Loki up to sitting, one hand behind his head like he was a babe who needed the support. Though perhaps he did, perhaps if Thor didn’t hold it there his head would fall at some grotesque angle--

Loki’s breathing hitched. “It’s all right,” Thor was saying. “It’s all right, Loki, breathe, you’re safe.” He coughed the last of the water out and inhaled shakily. _Weak,_ he thought wearily, but there was little bile in the thought. 

“Queen Shuri said she might have an idea of something that we could use,” Thor said as he eased Loki down to his back once again. “Something to help you stay calm while the doctors work.” 

_Something to make me helpless,_ a part of Loki screamed. He said nothing, breathing shallowly.

“Are you willing to try again?” Thor asked, his voice tentative. Thor should not sound like that, so weary, so wounded. _Your fault._

( _No, Thanos’s fault._ )

“You’ll be here?” Loki rasped, childishly plaintive. 

Thor made another one of those noises like he was holding back the urge to cry. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I’ll be here.” 

* * *

The drug they used did not fully submerge his consciousness. Just blurred it, stole control of his body away so he could not move, made his magic slippery and unreachable. Thor was there, holding him down.

He didn’t remember starting to scream, but once he did he couldn’t stop. He could hear himself begging, pleading, fear battering at his mind, flickering between _now_ and _then_ and the two blurring together, guiding the pieces of his spine back together (snapping them apart) and he could hear Thor saying something, desperate, afraid. 

After what felt like far too long, his mind overloaded and went blank. Went somewhere else. Loki followed, and was grateful. 

* * *

Loki surfaced slowly from oblivion, disoriented. For a moment he thought it had all been one long and terrible dream; a nightmare from which he’d finally awakened.

It wasn’t. Or it was a nightmare that was all too real. 

He hurt less, Loki realized quickly. There was no whistle to his breathing, no more pulsing agony in his spine. 

He tried to turn his head and could not, meeting resistance; he froze, panic battering at him. He managed to fight it back under control and raised a shaking hand to feel the smooth surface of the brace he’d been wearing before - that was all, that was _all_ it was. There was familiar snoring somewhere nearby: Thor. 

Loki rolled carefully to his side and tried to sit up, and then to stand. His knees buckled almost immediately, refusing his weight. 

Somehow, Thor moved quickly enough to catch him before he fell. 

“Loki,” he said, scanning his face with those mismatched eyes. He tried to smile, though the pained look on Thor’s face suggested it wasn’t very successful. 

“Did it work?” He asked. His voice still didn’t sound quite right, but it didn’t hurt to speak. 

“It seems so.” Thor guided him back onto the cot, and Loki didn’t try to resist. “ _Norns,_ Loki, I…” He took a shuddering, uneven, breath. “You’re _alive._ ”

“So are you,” Loki said. He stared up at Thor almost hungrily, because that...at least that was _good,_ that he could be _glad_ of, even if nothing else made sense. 

One of Thor’s hands moved from his shoulder up toward his neck and Loki jerked away. Thor stopped himself, pain flashing across his face. _I’m sorry,_ Loki wanted to say, but he couldn’t. Just now, he couldn’t even imagine Thor touching his neck without breaking out in a cold sweat.

“How are you feeling,” Thor asked after a pause. 

“Tired,” Loki said, which was an understatement. He felt like a wet rag that had been wrung out and then pressed flat by a hot iron. “But - better.” He licked his lips. “May I have some water?” 

Thor went swiftly, returning with a full cup. Loki let him help him sit up to drink it, because Thor seemed to need to, right now, and it was a need that Loki could understand even if his pride flared in weak protest. 

The water was good. Cold, and clean, and it didn’t hurt to swallow anymore. Somehow, once again, he had clawed his way back. 

“I’m sorry,” Loki said, when the cup was empty. Thor gave him a sharp look. 

“What?” 

“I imagine-” He took an unsteady breath. “I imagine that you are - rather tired of watching me die.” 

The broken sound Thor made could not pass for a laugh. “That is not something _you_ must apologize for. You-” He cut off and shook his head. “ _I_ should...I was useless. Helpless.”

“We all were,” Loki said wearily. “Taken by surprise. We were weakened, vulnerable…” He trailed off. The stench of blood and offal. Screams suddenly cut off. Fear hammering at Loki, telling him to _run, run-_

Thor’s fingers pressed into his shoulder. “Loki,” he said. “ _Breathe._ ”

For a moment he thought wildly _I can’t, Thor, I’m dead,_ but his mind cleared fast and he inhaled, held it, exhaled slowly. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, finally. “I don’t...it wasn’t your fault.” _As much mine. I brought the Tesseract._

But he couldn’t bear to remind Thor of that right now. 

Thor pulled away slowly, his eyes cast down. There was such a heaviness to him now, grief and pain and loss weighing him down. Loki did not want to ask. He needed to ask. 

“What happened,” he asked. Thor said nothing, and Loki’s heart fluttered anxiously. “Thor?” 

“He won,” Thor said, voice quiet and aching. Loki’s throat closed all over again.

“What?” 

“He won,” Thor said. “Thanos. He gathered all the Infinity Stones and killed half the universe with a snap of his fingers. I didn’t kill him in time, and now…”

Loki’s heart stuttered. _Half the universe. He won._ “Oh,” he said weakly, stupidly. Some part of him thinking _you helped him. You gave him the Tesseract._ But he would not have - could not have - done anything else. 

And all he really felt was hollow. And exhausted. And selfish, so _very_ selfish, because his first thought was _but he didn’t take you._


End file.
